Of Lies, Crimes, and Alibis
by Amber Masquerade
Summary: Mafia AU. On a mission to find her father, who had disappeared for weeks after dealing with a mafia gang, Maka Albarn accidentally gets herself entangled with the most powerful mob boss in all of Death City: Soul Eater Evans. SoulxMaka, rated T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I finally wrote this! I was thinking of releasing the Angel AU first 'cause I hated the way this chapter turned out. But oh well, since you guys were the ones who voted, you got to choose. Enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Soul Eater.**

* * *

"Haha!" A man guffawed and propped his legs on top of an old rusted heater. He wiped away greasy sweat from the rim of his forehead and adjusted his grimy white tie on his neck. "So now whaddya plannin' on doin' with her now?"

Another young man rose from the darkened corner of the other side of the room. "Dunno. I think it'd be a pity to kill 'er now," he drawled. The man on the heater glanced to the shattered window pane and out into the night sky, and the cityscape that beckoned to them from the fourth floor of the empty building they were in. The two men were dressed in slightly dirtied and ruffled white pinstriped suits. One wore a stern face with hollowed cheeks as he walked nervously about the dilapidated room, while the other one donned a cocky smirk with unkempt brown hair and kept his feet on an old heater. They had chosen to stay in an old abandoned room scheduled for demolition with some small windows, to make sure that no one could see them. "Do you really think we should kill her, bauws?"

He scoffed. "Of course we should. Boss'll have our head if we don't get rid of any witnesses."

"Mmph!" The girl who sat in the middle of the room let out a muffled cry of protest through her gag. The man came over to her and loosened the cloth around her mouth.

"Calm down, girlie, We ain't gonna hurt you...yet," he told her.

"Maybe you should just let me go," she offered, scowling at them. She wriggled her hands against the tight knots of the ropes around her wrists hopelessly. The young girl had her hair tied in two limp ash-blonde pigtails on opposite side of her head. She wore a plaid red miniskirt and a yellow sweater vest with a green-and-white striped tie with a white collared shirt underneath. "I won't tell anyone, I swear it."

"Sorry about that, girl, but not after what you've witnessed today," the man on the radiator said. "You're a threat to us now, an' we can't afford that. We hafta make the deal tonight anyways."

The stern-looking older guy frowned. "But do we hafta kill 'er? Can't we jus' drop 'er off over there down near the riverbank? Someone'll find her in the mornin' an' we'll be long gone by then," he said, and the girl nodded furiously at his proposition.

"I second what he said," she said plainly. "Besides, if you kill me, then you'll have more blood on your hands."

He chuckled. "But that doesn't mean you'll forget about every thing you've seen tonight. You shouldn't've been snoopin' around."

"But all I saw you do was sneak into this building and overheard you talking about some deal that's happening tonight!" she said angrily. "S'not like it's anything important!"

"Exactly," he said. "Still makes you a witness. You'll rat on us to the police an' we'll be outta here! Or worse...our bauws finds out..." He shuddered. "Bauws'll have us hanging by our toes if he ever finds out..."

"You mean big boss Al Capone?" she broke in, unimpressed.

"How'd ya know about our bauws?" the burly one with taut jaws said.

"_Everyone_ knows him," she said, rolling her olive-green eyes to the cracked ceiling and back down to the concrete floor. "My Papa worked with him back when he was a street rat."

"Don't'chu talk about our Big Daddy like that!" the cocky guy spat at her. "Or...do ya want us to hand you over to him instead, I'll guarantee he'll make your death much more painful than we can."

"Nah, I'm good here," she shrugged with an even tone.

"Shh!" the big man raised a hand, silencing both of them. "I think they're coming."

The skinnier man rose off of his lounging position. He bent down an picked a business-sized black leather suitcase next to his foot, snapped it open to check its contents, and then closed it again. He glanced up at the sound of echoing footsteps coming from outside of the room in the darkened hallway, and froze. "Get ready. And shut her up, will ya?" His obsequious accomplice followed his orders. He dragged the girl over to where the other man stood.

"What's going on - hmph! " He stuffed the white cloth back in her mouth as they came to the sidelines where the other man was.

The footsteps grew increasingly loud. Through the blackness of the doorframe, two broad-shouldered men wearing black suits with maroon collars and cuffs came in, both holding one pistol in hand. They stepped to the sides, their faces shielded by the shadows, while one other pair of footsteps droned away in the background. The burly man behind her gulped. Suddenly, they halted. The two dark-suited men cocked their guns, which resounded sharply around the room.

The third and final figure emerged through the doorframe, shrouded in darkness. "Do you have the money?" a deep, rumbling voice spoke, smooth and steady. The shining tips of his black shoes could be seen protruding in the small circle of light that shone in the center of the room.

The tall man stepped in front of the girl with the suitcase. "Of course we do. You gots the deed to the house?" he drawled.

The hidden figure finally stepped into the dim white light. His hair color resembled that of a blizzard, contradicting his garnet eyes that glared at the two men. He straightened his pinstriped crimson tie and tucked it into his pure black suit, stuffing his hand into his pocket to take out a crumpled white paper. "Last time I checked, you rats from the Capone family owe me money. You'd better not disappoint me now."

"A'course not, sir. We wouldn't _dare _trick the Evans family mafia, at all," he said with a mocking tone of innocence. He waved the suitcase in front of him and placed it on the ground in the middle of the lit circle. The albino side-glanced at one of his men and one went over to grab the suitcase.

"Who's this?" he asked, his droopy red gaze falling on the girl.

"An unwanted guest," he replied. "We'll take care of 'er later." The guard rummaged around in the suitcase, and finally closed it.

"The amount's all here, sir," he said, and the albino man nodded.

"This deal's finished. I've given you the land you wanted, and you've given me my money. Now get outta here, go back to being Capone's little bitches," he spat, and the two men sneered at him. They exchanged uneasy glances and started to proceed to the doorway, but the stopped.

"Wuddya want us to do with her?" he asked, and the girl's eyes darted from the albino to the two men.

The white-haired man thought for a moment. "Leave her with me. I'll take care of it."

The two men in white outfits scurried away. The man in the black suit nodded at his men to leave the room. The girl continued to scan his features; they were vaguely familiar to her, like she'd seen then before. When his two bodyguards had exited the room, he reached into his back pocket.

He lifted the shiny and polished black barrel of the pistol and cocked it. The girl whimpered, eyeing with a pleading gaze at the gun as he pointed it at her forehead. "Don't make a noise," he whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut.

He pulled the trigger.

Boom.

A single gunshot rang out into the building, resonating through every hallway and every room.

He set the gun down and blew away the smoke billowing up in small wisps from the hold of the barrel.

"Shush." She opened her eyes, discovering that she was still alive to her surprise. He had aimed the gun at the ceiling right before he shot, creating a small hole in the concrete above. "Now they think you're dead," he told her, bending down to remove her gag.

"Why are you helping me?" she hissed as quietly as she could as he untied her wrists.

He helped her off the ground and smirked, showing off a row of sharp pearly white teeth. "Because I know your Daddy, Maka Albarn." He pulled her off the floor.

"You know Papa?" she asked. So that's why she recognized him. "Wait..._you're_ the head of the Evans mafia, Soul Eater?"

"Correct. And _you're_ a bit too young to be snoopin' around mob business," he quipped.

"I wouldn't be talking. Aren't _you _a bit too young to be a godfather?" she shot back, wiping off the smirk on his face.

"I'd be careful of what you say, little girlie," he said, twirling the black pistol in his fingers.

She ignored him. "How do you know my father?"

"Your father was a pretty good dealer in my family. What're you doin' here in the first place anyways?" She rubbed her sore and chafed wrists.

"Papa disappeared a few months ago. I've been trying to investigate and find where he is," she told him.

"Oh. That's a pity. I'd be careful around this town, little lady. If someone doesn't want something being dug up - I mean, discovered - he might easily get rid of you," he said, almost without emotion.

"Yeah, ya don't say," she deadpanned.

"You got a death wish, Albarn?"

"Wish or not, I'm here to search for him regardless of getting killed."

"Your wish might just come true," he drawled. "Next time a nice guy like me might not come along."

"Are you _implying_ that I can't take care of myself?" she huffed. "I'll have you know that I've been on my own, living alone ever since Papa left! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

"And so can Al Capone," he shrugged and she glared. "Why didn't you just go off with your mom or somethin'?"

"I...I don't have a mom anymore. She was killed two years ago by a drive-by shoot-up. Some mobs didn't like Papa's way of business, and they wanna keep him silent..." she trailed off, averting her gaze to the floor. "After she died, Papa was the only person I had left."

He frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. _Truly_ a pity." His words contained no emotions, as if they were reheased lines for a bad play.

She glanced up hopefully. "Do you know anything about my father? What might've happened to him?"

"Sorry, I don't. I would've heard of it," he shrugged.

"Oh...thanks anyways," she said, the hope dissipating in eyes. The swung around and started walking past him and to the exit. "I'll be off now -"

A rough hand clamped on her wrist. "Hold on there. Do you actually think you can just walk away casually like that?" He asked, raising a brow when she tried her tug her hand free. "This is the _mafia _you're dealing with."

She tried to pull her wrist away, but his hands were like vice grips and his gaze was like solid ice. "What the hell was that for?!" she demanded.

"They don't just let'cha waltz away. Those two guys saw you and they know what you look like. They know your name. And they won't let you roam around the street safely now that they know you're a witness."

"Yeah, so?" she huffed, finally freeing her wrist from his grip.

"_So?_ I faked a kill on you. They think you're dead as of now. So whaddya think they'll do when they see you strolling across the street casually?" he shrugged. "You're dead, and you have to stay like that. The mafia'll never forget your face."

"So...does that mean I can't go home anymore?" she asked, worried. "Does it mean I have to stop school and everything? And what about my friends? They obviously know something's wrong - "

"Think of it this way: I've decided to keep you under the Evans family wing for a while. You'll be protected that way," he continued, ignoring her.

"And what if I don't comply?"

"Ya might as well me dead where you stand," he said, lazily stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. "But if you stay with me, we can make arrangements."

"Stay with a mobster? No thanks," she snorted and shook his hand away and started towards the door again. "I'd never let a crime mutt have me. I can take care of myself."

Soul Eater smirked. "And...maybe we might uncover a bit of your father." His words made her stop cold. "I'm a man of power, ya know."

She swiveled her head around reluctantly. "For how long would I have to stay with you?"

"Dunno. A few months, a year, a week..." He wandered over to her and loomed right behind her. "Besides, I wouldn't mind having your company."

She bit her lip. "...Are you sure you'll help me find Papa? And you'll protect me?"

"Cross my heart, shoot to die," he offered and wide grin and held a hand down for her to shake. "Do we have a deal, Miss Albarn?"

She fully turned to face him. "Fine." She took his hand and shook it slowly.

His grin widened. "Congrats. You've just made a deal with the devil."

* * *

A tubby middle-aged man slumped down in his desk chair, giving a gruff sigh, exhaling the thick ashen smoke from his large cigar that hung from his mouth. He rubbed his stubbly mustache that covered a spot of tan skin on his upper lip and took the tip of his hat and tilted it downwards. There was a sudden knock on his office door. "Come in," he snorted, digging the butt of the cigar into an over-filled ash tray.

Two men, one a tall and gruff-looking one, and the other one burly and firm, ran through the doorway, out of breath. "Evenin', Big Daddy," the lanky one drawled.

"How's the deal with Evans," the big man at the desk asked, leaning towards them on his elbows with interest.

"It worked, bauws," the fat one said. "Except fo' one problem, sir."

The boss removed the cigar from his mouth slowly, menacingly. "Whatcha mean?"

"Remember the name 'Albarn?'" He asked.

"Yeah, that old man who used to do business between us and the Evans, what 'bout him?"

"His little daughter is onto us," the tall one said, secretively leaning in. "We saw 'er sneakin' around the building and we caught 'er. We were 'bout to get rid of 'er, but Evans got to 'er first. Dunno if she's dead or not, but if she is it'd be bad if we had someone snoopin' around our secrets. We heard a gun go off when Evans was with 'er, but when we came back to the room there was no body, no blood, no nothin'."

The mob boss thought for a moment, twiddling the cigar around in his fingers. "You know what to do. Get rid of 'er for reals this time."

"But bauws, that means goin' into Evans' territory!"

"Oh, I see. So you'd rather be buried alive under ten tons 'a concrete then, eh?"

"N-No bauws! I'll find her, even if she's dead!"

He smirked. "Good boy. Now get outta here. Bring ya boys over."

* * *

_"Mamaaa..." the little blonde-haired pigtailed girl swung her mother's arms back and forth while she held onto it. _

_"Yes, Maka?" The beautiful-looking woman with emeralds for eyes and cascading ash-blond hair that fell to her shoulders swiveled her head down at her little daughter._

_"When is Papa gonna come home? He's been gone for too long," the eight-year-old whined, tugging her Mama's arms. _

_"Don't worry, I think he'll come home soon. Papa's just...he just needed to go on a business trip in Brooklyn for a while, that's all," she reassured her daughter with an unsure smile, but it was enough to satisfy her. _

_Suddenly, a large black car swerved across a turn and barreled towards them near the sidewalk. Her mother froze upon hearing the squeal of rubber on asphalt, and, with alarmed eyes, watched as the van drove down their street. "Maka, come closer to me," she said to her daughter, struggling to keep her voice even without revealing fear behind its tone. _

_The van skid to a stop a few feet in front of them. Her mother backed away suddenly, pushing her young daughter behind her back. The girl curiously eyed the vehicle with a tilted head. The door slid open forcefully and two men stood in the opening, holding pistols. Her mother turned to her quickly and shouted, "Run, Maka! Run and don't look back!" She gave her daughter a harsh shove, prying her small hands from her own. "RUN!" It was the last thing she heard as she rushed down the street with her head turned back to look at her mother while the sound of freshly-shot bullets echoed out into the humid afternoon summer air of the city. The concrete where her mother's body had fallen pooled red with blood. _

_The girl frantically turned the street corner, ducking into a nearby alleyway and nestling herself in between two aluminum trash cans. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged the tightly, and buried her head against her kneecaps, trying to drown out the noise with darkness. Multiple pairs of footsteps stampeded by the sidewalk, guns cocking. "Check the alley here!" A gruff voice barked. _

_Maka squeezed her legs tighter together upon listening to a single pair of heavy-heeled boots approaching her slowly, cautiously. It was a lone man. When the footsteps had stopped, she glanced up quickly at her pursuer. He was glaring down at her with enflamed garnet eyes, holding a shaky barrel pointed right at her forehead. Charcoal black hair draped over his forehead. He gritted his teeth at the sight of her, his eyes showing a look of digust, yet...restraint at the same time. The girl's olive eyes were tranfixed innocently on him for a moment. The man glared back, holding a finger on the trigger yet refusing to pull it. He clicked his tongue in annoyance._

_He let his arm drop to his sides, clenching the pistol tightly in his hand. "Hey, did ya find her?!" one of the goons shouted to him. _

_He paused, glancing coldly at her, and then back at the entrance of the alleyway. He shook his head. "No, I didn't," he answered coolly. She watched as he trotted away, leaving her alone in between to garbage cans. _

_In the distance, there was a loud screech of tires as the engine to a van roared to life and veered away. Maka rose slowly from her hiding place, creeping up to the corner to take a peek outside. Once her young mind had made it out to be safe, she bolted back down the street. Her mother's body lay still against the pavement, a small pond of red pooling around her overturned body._

_She screamed for her mother, calling for her to wake up, but she didn't seem to respond on the ground. She wondered why she chose to lay down at such an inappropriate time._

_Maka stopped, still watching as her mother was unmoving. She slowed down, her legs were burning and the air was hot and her lungs were screaming for air. "Mama! Mama, wake up! C'mon, Mom!" She stumbled to her mother's body, the underside of her clothing leaking with red fluid. She fell to her knees.  
_

_Her mother wasn't sleeping._

_She was dead._

_Tears welled up as she shook her mother relentlessly, trying to rouse her once more. "Mama! Mama, please!" she begged, tears snaking down her eyes and dripping off the point of her chin. "Mama! Mama..." _

_Her cries were drowned out by the oncoming wail of an ambulance speeding down their street..._

* * *

She silently averted her eyes downward to scan the black velvet carpet as the black limo rumbled down the darkened streets of Death City. "And that's how it happened," she finished plainly, replaying the memory just as she had done for the last eight years since that day.

Soul Eater Evans sat across from her, eyeing her carefully, cautiously, with those level ember-red eyes. "I see." He noticed her dreary look, not surprised.

"...Do you know where my father was last?" She asked. "He did a lot of secret missions when he was a young man, which always put him at risk. But he'd always leave a note next to my nightstand to let me know where he was. This time, he didn't leave anything. He left me alone in the house."

"How long has he been gone?" the albino boy asked.

"A few weeks. Papa would never leave for this long without telling me he would, or without giving me a message to let me know he's alright," she said sadly. "I'm really worried about him."

"What was the last deal he made?" he asked, his ember gaze watching her carefully.

"He never tells me what the deals are, he just tells me when and where they are," she answered.

"Maybe he's on an extended trip that he doesn't want you to know about," Soul suggested. "Mob business is strictly surveillanced by the cops. Even though they never manage to get a scratch on us, he might be considered a suspect and he's laying low for a while."

She nodded slowly. "I wish it could be only that. Papa was...an asshole." He perked his brow at her odd statement. "He was a lying, cheating, jerk, even after Mama died. Mama never forgave him. I didn't forgive him, either."

"So why do you still look for him?"

"Well, he's all I have left. I hate him, hate him so much," she said evenly with an undertone of reluctance. "But...he's my father. What else can I do?"

Soul turned his head to the driver. "Kid, how long until we're there?"

The driver, who had sleek black hair with strange white stripes dashing horizontally across half of his head, answered, "We're almost there, boss."

"Good. You'll be safe there. We're in my part of town now, where no other gang members dare enter. It's only a matter of time until - " A gunshot rang out across the street, and the window facing Maka shattered into black fragments.

She looked up, startled as Soul yelled, "Get down!" and dove at her, pushing her to the carpeted limo floor. "Stay low. Don't peek out the window or else you'll get shot. Kid, you okay up there?!" The driver ducked from his seat and out the passenger's side, drawing a pistol from his coat pocket and cocking it.

"I'm fine, sir! I think the Capone gang came back to finish the job," he said, squatting down with his back pressed against the car door. He inched his head over the top of the roof of the car and shot a few rounds. They returned with another volley of bullets.

"Stay here!" Soul barked at Maka, and he whipped his gun from his back pocket and snuck out the car door opposite of hers. He and Kid waited for their attackers to come out from the shadows and the alleys, and they fired randomly across the darkened streets, hoping the trace the source of the bullets.

"What's going on?!" she demanded.

"They know that I didn't kill you," Soul said, reloading his gun. "So now they're back to finish the job." He ducked back down under the car as soon as more shots were fired at them. Maka closed her eyes and cringed as she heard the sickening sound of bullets pelting the side of her door, nearly bursting through the metal frame-work. She crawled to Soul's side a slipped out next to him. "What are you doin'?!" He hissed at her, quickly peeking over to shoot and ducking down out of sight. "I told you it'd be safer inside the car!"

She curled up against the van side next to Soul as soon as she heard the loud bang of some more rounds being fired. "I thought it'd be better out here!"

He sighed. "Fine! Kid, how many do ya think they got over there?!"

Kid shot, and ducked. "Five, maybe more." More rounds emptied out of the enemy guns, pelting the van repeatedly, shattering a glass window above her and showering their heads in fragmented glass.

He bit his lip. "This is bad. We needa escape through one of those alleyways so they can't catch up with us. Let's go. Maka, stay in front of me."

She followed his lead after Soul stood up and sprinted into the nearest narrow pathway between two buildings. The bullets increased as Kid and Maka ran after him, and Kid periodically turned back to shoot at them again.

"Gah! We're gonna lose 'em!" One of them shouted to the others. "Follow 'em!" Just as Kid had predicted, a group of five men ran towards them with their guns ablaze.

"I don't see them anymore!"

"They're in the alleyway! If we lose 'em in Evans territory, we'll never get 'er!" They sprinted, but one bullet shot through the darkness and landed right into the burly man's shoulder. He grunted in pain and fell. His shoulder stained red that seeped through his jacket and spread.

"C'mon, ya useless lunk! After 'em!" His tall leader shouted. The man tried to lift himself up, but fell once more. "Ah, never mind! We'll find 'em ourselves."

Soul grabbed the girl by her arm and dragged her as another round of endless ammunition flew past their bodies and the air above them. "Hurry, or else you're gonna get shot!" Soul barked. A single bullet was fired and echoed across the hall. She stumbled to her knees, her hand still clutching his. "Don't get tired, dammit!" He lugged her limping body and swiveled to the right, into the next pathway.

"It's not that, Soul..." she managed weakly, Kid still ahead of the both of them. "I...I've been shot..."

Soul's eyes widened at her words, and he dared to look back. Right on the bottom left side of her abdomen was a large spot that splotted scarlet through her yellow sweater vest. With her other hand, she was grabbing the wound and trying to prevent more blood from leaking out as they ran. She was gasping for air, but still running. Her cheeks streaked a hue of sickly pink, like she had a fever. "Hold on, then!" Soul lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder. "We're almost to the safe house!" Kid stopped and allowed Soul to run past him, with the girl hanging limply from his shoulder.

"I'll hold them back," he said, his golden eyes flashing with fierceness. Soul nodded at him.

As soon as the bullets that rang out into the air became distant, and the streetlights became more scarce, Soul finally trudged up to a small warehouse that was connected to a larger building in the middle of an abandoned construction site. He swung open the door. Inside was a small cottage and fireplace and stove. "Hey, are you still alive?" He said as he slid her down from his shoulder and onto the bed. She nodded weakly. "Good. Lemme get you fixed up."

Maka was too weak to hold herself upwards. She slumped over on her side. "I can't..." Black dots materialized in her field of vision.

Soul noticed her fall and caught her. Little spots of darkness clouded her vision. "Don't worry, leave the rest to me," he reassured her as she ducked in and out of consciousness, unwilling to close her eyes. "Just hold on."

* * *

**A/N: Eh, I really didn't like the way I wrote this chapter, but hopefully you guys did. Leave a review please!**

**Happy 4th of July everyone!**

**~Amber**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry I'm so late with this chapter! It took me some time before I could write it because I've been so busy with my other stories. So, before you start, here are some mafia jargon that you might want to know:**

**Made man: a man who has been formally inducted into the mafia.**

**Don: the head of a mafia, i.e., Al Capone.**

**Yes, I am aware that that Al Capone's gang was in Chicago, but just for the sake of this AU he's in Death City.**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

He waited impatiently from outside her room door, his foot tapping away against the wood floorboards, leaned up against the doorframe. He scowled. The doctor had reassured him that it was merely a flesh wound; the bullet had penetrated her side but it wasn't enough to lodge in her skin. It'd been 30 minutes since the doctor came to see her after removing those flimsy bandages Soul had put on her to stop the bleeding, before she went unconscious and he panicked. He had asked everyone to leave the room before he worked on her, which Soul thought was a strange request. Now he was standing there with a frustrated look on his face, waiting for the latest news on her.

Down the long corridor with many rooms on either side, from a lighted hallway adjacent to the one he was in, a woman with deep cerulean eyes and sleek black hair tied back into a ponytail poked her head around the corner. She wore a black maid's outfit and a white lace headband behind her bangs. She greeted him with a weary yet kind smile. "Your dinner is ready, Mr. Evans."

Soul nodded. "Thanks, Tsubaki, but I think I'll pass on dinner tonight."

"I made your favorite spaghetti," she said. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, save it for later," he dismissed.

She nodded gently and ventured back down the hallway, leaving Soul alone once again.

He was hit with a wave of relief as the door finally creaked open. "I'm done with her, Mr. Evans," said a monotonous voice. A tall man with grey hair and glasses covering his pale olive eyes stood in the doorway, allowing light from inside the room to spill out into the darkened hall.

"How is she, Stein?" he asked.

"It was only a flesh wound, just as I suspected. I also suspect that the only reason she fainted was from the shock of being shot, not because of blood loss," he answered, no underlying tone of emotion in his voice.

Soul sighed. "Fuck, that scared the shit outta me," he muttered, exasperated.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about. I bandaged up her bullet wound and found that the bullet had gone straight through her. Besides minor blood loss and a wound on her side, she should be okay if given rest for a few days. If she is active there is a risk of reopening the wound, so make sure she stays in that bed," he concluded. He reached behind him for a black leather suitcase filled with his supplies.

"How long is she gonna be out?" Soul asked.

Stein turned his head and glanced at the girl resting in the bed. "It depends. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few minutes," he guessed. "Call me if anything happens." After retrieving his suitcase, the doctor headed out from the room and down the hall to take his leave.

Soul ventured into the room slowly, gingerly closing the door behind him. The unconscious blonde was laying peacefully on a bed, _his_ bed, with the white sheets drawn over her chest, arms resting at her sides. She let out a contented sigh in her sleep. He went over to his paper-cluttered desk and dragged a small wooden chair, setting it down backwards next to her bed. He sat down, resting his arms on the top of the backrest and waited patiently with a watchful ruby gaze that darted warily from the open window across the room and back to the bed. All while he kept a firm grip on his trusty pistol, tucked away inside of his coat pocket, locked and loaded to welcome and greet any intruder who dared to try and get into her room.

* * *

The two would-be made men of the Capone gang, who had been sent to kill Maka and the others, limped into his office once more. Al Capone was still in the same spot, cigarette ash and buds littering the floor around him. The smell of smoke hung thickly in the air and occupied the air with a wispy presence. The men waved away the putrid scent as they lumbered over to his desk nervously. Capone was staring down at a pile of documents with yet another large cigar hanging from one side of his mouth. He glanced up at them and acknowledged them with disgust. "If she ain't dead, then you two'll be soon," he growled.

The tall man scratched the back of his head, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, um - " he let out a nervous chuckle " - about that, bauws..."

The don quirked his eyebrow. "If ya don't bring me good news I'll have ya heads for it."

"W-wait, bauws! We can fix it, I swear we can! We'll kill 'er for sure next time!" he insisted.

"Hmm?" Capone asked, seemingly interested.

"A-And, we'll add in an extra bonus! We'll kill Evans, too!" he said.

Capone chuckled doubtfully. He rose up slowly from his chair and placed a heavy hand on his papers, the other hand handling the cigar from his mouth. He suddenly slammed his hand down harshly on the desktop, startling both men. "Whaddya take me for, an idiot?!" he demanded loudly. "I asked ya for one thing. _One fuckin' thing_. Kill some little girl who doesn't even know how to handle a goddamn gun, shoot that damn little bratty snob who think he's a goddamn mob bauws." He snatched the collar of the skinny man's shirt, dragging him close towards the desk. "You think I'm gonna let ya fail again? I should bury ya right now."

"No, no! Please, bauws, we'll do it! We-We'll even hire a professional! Please, bauws, please!" he begged, shaking from the grimy man's clutches as he inhaled the strong scent of smoke emanating from his breath. "I promise! I swear! Just don't kill me!"

Capone unhanded his shirt and pushed him back against the tubby man. "Now go do it."

The two men scrambled up and out the door in a panicked rush.

As soon as they were away, they stumbled upon an old-fashioned phone, and he quickly dialed the number. "H-Hello? Yeah, we your best assassin...and send him over right now..."

* * *

"Good evening, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted as her eyes fluttered open, only an hour later after the doctor had left.

The blonde seemed confused and startled, eyes wide and roving around the room and back down to her sheets. "Where am I?" she asked.

"This house is a part of the Evans territory. It's only a small house, but you'll protected here. Kid's in charge of this house," he answered. "He runs a gamblin' ring down at the pub."

She swung her head around as a sudden breeze that entered through the window blew against the brown shutters. "No, I mean what part of town?"

"Downtown. Not far from where I found you."

"How'd I get here?" she asked slowly, still slightly dazed.

"You went out like a light after you got shot. We patched you up and carried you here, where the doctor fixed up your wound." Maka propped herself up and gingerly touched the left side of her stomach, wincing as she felt the pain. "It ain't a serious wound. Just stay put here and rest up."

Maka frowned. "Am I still in danger?"

Soul lifted the pistol from his pocket slowly, finger resting on the trigger lightly. "Yup."

He stood up slowly and sauntered over to the window and shut it, making sure that it was firmly closed. He stared out the pane for a moment, eyes carefully panning the empty street in the distance that was illuminated by streetlights to look for anything that stood out. He lowered the gun and stuffed it back in his pin-striped suit pocket as soon as he confirmed that there was no one out there. Maka gulped at the sight of the barrel glinting under the ceiling light. "...Why do you have that?" she asked timidly as Soul resided on the edge of her bed and continued to stare out of her window grimly.

"Those bastards are still out there, prowling around, waiting to kill ya. They're always out there, waiting for us to let our guards down. Damn assassins."

Maka found herself swallowing some more fear. "Are we safe here then?"

"As long as you're with me, you're safe."

"You're not always gonna be by my side," she scoffed.

"I was speaking in metaphorical terms," he deadpanned. "Of course, I ain't gonna cling to you like some baby. But I'm the best shooter in this whole damn city, I swear it."

Maka rolled her eyes. "_Right_. That's really reassuring," she said doubtfully. "Give me one reason to trust your word."

Soul chuckled. "Why the hell not? I'm the Evans', head mobster."

Maka scoffed. "Yeah, I've heard of people like you, Eater. Papa used to tell me stories on how you'd make a deal and then turn around stab their backs just for the sake of money. Your trust is as much worth as the 'actual' money you make," she said flatly.

"Heh, that must be a shit ton of trust then," he countered.

"I call bullshit," she glared.

Soul smirked. "Ya right, we mobsters aren't worth trusting. However, in the predicament you find yourself in, I think there's no other choice you have than to trust me, trust what I say and what I do," he grinned. "That will be your reason. My deals are real."

"Hmph," she huffed indignantly.

"Listen, girly. You won't last two steps from my front door without a bullet flyin' over your head, much less make it to the end of the street. You've crossed boundaries not meant to be crossed by normal people. This game's got the death penalty if ya don't play it right. Now, if you wanna live, then I highly suggest you listen to everything I'm sayin'," he chided, leaning in closer.

Maka tilted her head towards him and gave him a narrow-eyed side glance. "Fine. I'll play your game, but only for a little bit. I still don't trust you."

"That's good."

"But...Can I ask you one thing?"

Soul quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Why do you wanna protect me so bad?" she asked.

"Hmm..." he mused. "Because...if ya ever decided to do some business with us, you'd make a very cute negotiator. Those are hard to come by these days, y'know?"

She was tempted to drive a fist through his face, but she held her rage back. "You're keeping me here because you wanna _use_ me later?" she asked in a low voice.

"Ey, why not win you over right now? You're my captive audience so - " he sang, before being cut off by her clenched fist being drove into his nose.

As Soul yelped and grasped his nose, startled. "I don't think so, crime mutt. I'd never stoop to your level," she huffed.

He sneered at her smug look and rubbed his sore nose. "So ya think you could do any better, eh, tramp?" he snickered in a nasally voice, before receiving another indignant whack to the lower jaw, courtesy of Maka.

Soul glared at her as her upper lip tugged into a grin. "I don't want anything to do with you," she said. "Remember? The only reason I'm here is so that you can help me find my father and protect me."

When he was done tenderly massaging his impact spots and his anger died down, he answered, "But, to be a bit harsh here, we're never safe anywhere, ain't no gun that can protect you from them." He shrugged. "That's just normal for a guy like me." He pushed away from the bed and sat at the edge of the window. "A lucky girl like yourself don't have to deal with this shit, do ya?"

Maka's brows furrowed. "Papa dragged us into it in the first place. Mama was killed because of them. And I would've been too."

"I've had more than my mama killed because of those bastards, I can assure you," Soul drawled.

"How long ago was that?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"When did your mother die?"

"Hm..." He lightened the dark tone in his husky voice. "'bout when I was nine, maybe. Or eight."

Maka's head perked up. "That makes two of us."

Soul let out a sour chuckle. "Well, my mother was violently bludgeoned to death. By my father, of course," he answered plainly.

"Your father used to be the don of the Evans Mafia, didn't he?" she asked.

"Yeah, he was. And he was damn good at it, too. He taught me everything I needed to know. However, my mother didn't approve. And...when he found out that she was takin' me away from the city, he killed her," he finished, eyes darkening at his tale. "But then, whaddya know? He gets assassinated on the way to dinner by one of his own guards, and then I got appointed as the new boss." He noticed that Maka was staring at him, seemingly interested and engrossed in his story. He shot her a look and she became conscious of her gaze, directing it away from him. "...S'not like I saw it or anything. He ordered me to go to another room and locked me in there until he was done with her."

"O-oh..." her tone sounded sad. "Did you love your mother?"

"Hmph. That's a stupid question...of course I did. But I was too young to get it." Once again, Soul shot her a paranoid look. "Don't ya dare pity me. I've been through worse than that," he sneered. He stood up abruptly after absorbing a moment of silence between them, glancing down at his gun for a moment. After giving it a thought, he finally said, "Here. Take this. I do assume that you know how to use it, right?"

Soul pushed down the hammer, cocking the pistol, and handed it to her. Maka hesitantly reached for the handle, keeping an unsteady gaze at the barrel. "I...I've never used a gun before," she admitted.

"Well, now's your chance," he deadpanned. "I'm gonna leave for a little while. It's late, and I've got some business to do."

He started towards the door, but Maka gripped his wrist before he could go. "Wait! You're just gonna leave me here? But...didn't you say that anyone can just come in here and kill me?" she asked.

"I'm pretty sure I just said I'm not gonna be at your side at all times. But, Kid's gonna be standing guard outside your door. There are two of my guys are also standing guard at the door. Give 'em a holler and he'll be here. But just so we're clear, he ain't your servant - "

"Hold on a sec, what if some guy comes in? What do I do next?" Still holding the pistol, Soul placed his hand on hers and guided her fingers to the correct locations on the gun. One finger against the trigger lightly. Her thumb on the hammer, which would situate the bullet in its place. The rest of her fingers grasping around the handle.

He tilted his head right next to hers. "Here. You see that ledge on the edge of that barrel? Point it, and aim. Then pull the trigger and let the bullet fly."

Maka found it slightly unnerving that the side of his head was pushed up against her head and that his hands were firmly cupped around her hands. He was unusually warm and firm, almost felt nice to have your hands held by him. She broke away from his grip. "Okay, I think I get the gist."

"Good. Be careful at who you're aimin' at, too," he reminded. Maka shot him a look for such a foolish comment. "See ya in a while. Get some rest. I'll have Tsubaki bring you up some dinner if you're hungry."

"What're you gonna do about my father?" she asked.

"If you'd stop asking questions, then maybe you'd find out," he answered.

With that, he casually swung the door closed behind him, leaving her with a loaded pistol in one hand. Maka continued to stare at the door for a little while, a bit incredulous about her encounter with the strange-looking boy. But then, a wave of fatigue washed over her and she resided to resting her head back down against the pillow. She aimed her solemn gaze towards a darkened corner of the room and allowed for her own thoughts to consume her.

It wasn't until she caught a dark figure shot past her window in her peripheral vision, that she was knocked from her mind. She had set the gun down on the nightstand next to her, but found herself reaching for it involuntarily while she kept a steady gaze on the drawn shutters. After a little while of not seeing it again, she dismissed it as her imagination. After all, she was just tired and she needed to rest, considering her injury. But this time, she tucked the loaded pistol right under her pillow, just in case her imagination decided that it was reality and that there was an actual person lurking outside of her house.

* * *

She found that the figure that darted past a small vision of view in her eyes had unnerved her more than usual, so she got Kid and some of his men to scour the perimeter of the house. She waited patiently for twenty minutes or so, until they came back to her and reported that there was nothing unusual. She wanted to see Soul to question him about what he was going to do next about finding her father, but Kid informed her that Soul had left the house and headed towards a small bar two blocks down and around the corner. This only made her more uneasy, knowing that her self-proclaimed protector was out while she was left alone in a room to fend for herself. She also had a feeling that she wouldn't be too quick to grab for that pistol, also.

The time was now 11:30 pm, and she was exhausted. She'd promised herself that she would have been sleeping by 12 am, but she was getting more nervous after she found out the the mob leader wouldn't be back until around 2 am. Even with the pistol still hidden under her pillow, she found no comfort in knowing that she could be killed in any moment, within any second, on any day, now that she was a target. Besides, what had she seen that was so important to them, anyways? she wondered. She couldn't care less about mob secrets. Unless...perhaps they had something to do with her father.

"Kid?" she called, just to reassure herself that he was there.

The black-haired boy swung open the door open quickly. "What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just making sure you're there. Um...you'll be there for the whole night, right?"

Kid frowned. "I suppose so. But so far, we've seen nothing suspicious. I think they've given up for the night. How's your wound?"

"It doesn't hurt or anything," she assured him. Even though Kid wasn't a sly dog like Soul was, he seemed classy and decent besides that fact that he oversaw an underground and illegal gambling ring. "I'm fine."

Kid nodded. "That's good. If you need anything, I'll be outside," he finished, closing the door behind him.

Maka waited for silence to sweep over the room before giving the window another uneasy glance, then reaching to her side to shut off the lamp in her nightstand. She finally rested her head down on the pillow and letting herself get lost in the darkness that engulfed the room in a nice, peaceful blanket that lulled her to sleep.

* * *

Soul had to use both hands to cover both ears to protect it from the pounding music that vibrated heavily against the floors of La Cabana, a club and bar not too far from Kid's residence. Across the table from him sat an old friend, enjoying his nightly cocktail, giving a sly look at each waitress, watching as the band of saxophones and trumpets and drummer played away their blasting tune. "So, as I was sayin'!" Soul yelled over the music. His spiky blue-haired colleague turned to him with a questioning look, not hearing what he had said over the roaring music of jazz. Soul gave up on trying to communicate with him until BlackStar was done with his third cocktail and attempted to smack a waitress's ass as she passed by. He didn't blame him, being that each female worker was dressed in some skimpy peacock-resembling outfit, featuring a sequenced blue and purple bikini top and bottom, all with long and outlandish neon blue tail feathers protruding from their asses and a headband of feathers that stuck straight up.

"Will ya listen to me already?!" Soul demanded, slamming a hand down at the table to catch his attention.

"Yeah, whaddya want?!" Star demanded, cheek already pinking from his alcoholic consumption. Soul wanted to at least get some words into him before he lost his sobriety completely.

"I want you to look into Capone's last business for me, ya hear?! He's plannin' somethin' that I wanna know about! I know ya know him very well, so I'm just gonna ask you this favor!" he shouted.

Star nodded, slow to process his request. "What's in it for me?" he asked.

Soul reached into his pocket and slipped out a fat wad of small green papers. "Money."

Star smirked as he snatched the pile of bills from him. "Is there gonna be more?"

"More than you can think of," Soul answered.

"Deal," Star said, grinning. "Whaddya want me to look at? Any specifics?"

"Try anything that had to do with the name 'Albarn.'"

The boy mulled over the name for a moment. "Dunno know a name like that," he shrugged, tugging at Soul's patience.

Soul rolled his eyes and brought out another roll of cash. "Don't push ya luck kid, there'a only so much convincing I can do."

"Albarn, Albarn..." Star thought aloud to himself. "Yeah, I know the name."

"Ya know where he is right now?"

"Capone does," he answered. "But he never told nobody, far as I'm concerned."

Soul nodded. "Thanks. Keep in touch."

* * *

It was one in the morning when it happened. Maka was already deep in slumber, sleeping peacefully in her bed. Kid was still posted outside, eyelids getting droopy. The room and house was entirely peaceful, no disturbances, no sign of a threat. Even the guards standing outside of the house with their guns spotted no one, not even the bulky figure sneaking into the backyard and slinking up against the side of their house.

There was a slight clinking sound against her shutters, like something small was tapping it gently. Of course, Maka was too preoccupied with sleep to notice. Slowly, her shutters began to inch upwards, gently so that no noise escaped from them. A hand slipped through her window and slid the pane upwards, leaving it completely upwards. Maka shifted uncomfortably in her bed. A darkened figure, shadow outlined by the moonlight, slipped into her room.

When she had finally woke to a small creaking sound against her floorboard, the man was already inside, standing at the side of her bed and casting a shadow against her face. Her eyes widened. She couldn't see his face, just the outline of his arms and legs and body. He made a grab for her mouth before she could utter anything. Quickly, he mounted on the bed and straddled her while making the slightest of noises. He was fast. Maka pried at his hand with desperation as it masked her muffled cries. "Shh..." he whispered, leaning down towards her ear. He felt his musty breath skimming across her skin and she shuddered. "Don't make this hard for me."

He brought up his other hand and wrapped his beefy fingers around her neck tightly. Maka had no time to scream before he used his other hand, both fully gripping around her neck, squeezing down tightly, crushing her windpipe and not letting an ounce of air get into her lungs. "Shh! Stop moving!" he hissed as he continued to strangle her. Panic, desperation, fear rose as she struggled to pull his arms off of her, but his whole body weight was already on top of her and his arms were too heavy to lift. She was completely helpless, and Kid was only one scream away. She began to feel dizzy as his hands tightened around her neck mercilessly, only allowing her to strangle out grunts of pain. Her body twisted under his weight and she tried flailing her legs to knock him off but he was too large. She could feel herself losing consciousness soon. The thought of dying became extremely realistic all of a sudden.

Instead of trying to pry his arms away, Maka resorted to flailing her arms near his own face, trying to do _something_ that would get him off of her. She tried to aim for his eyes or even knock him in the lower cheek so he'd get startled, but her vision had become blurred and she was running out of energy to spare. She tried kicking him off of her body but he was too near her chest to make it humanly possible for her legs to reach. She could feel her spit leaking from the side of her mouth, realizing that it was beyond hopeless now. Perhaps she'd just sink into unconsciousness and she'd never have to feel again. Until she realized...

_The pistol...!_

Her right arm continued to claw at his wrist while her left arm ventured clumsily up towards the slip in between the pillow and bed surface. If only she could find it, reach for it, even if her finger made it to the trigger then Kid would be right outside to rescue her. Black dots materialized in and out of her vision, and all she could see was the man's face covered in shadows. Would that be the last sight she would see before she died? She decided that it wouldn't be. With the last ounce of her strength, her fingers fumbled around desperately for the wooden handle, unable to find it. And finally, she felt the cold hard wood hit the tip of her fingers. She summoned the rest of her power and grabbed it, resting her hand against the trigger, pulling it without a second of consideration.

The bullet was deafeningly loud, even when it was under her pillow. She felt the man's hand loosen around her neck and she spied the startled expression on his face. The door barged open immediately with Kid brandishing a gun, screaming her name. The man jumped off of her body and leaped out of the window before Kid could take aim. Maka heaved in air, choking, gagging, coughing and grasping her neck at the same time. "Maka! Are you alright?!" Kid asked as he switched on the room light that lit up the room. She was still gasping, sucking air into her lung greedily and leaned over the side. Her olive-green eyes were widened with shock and disbelief and bewilderment.

"Wh...where did he go?" she managed in between a giant gasp. She was still gingerly resting her hands upon her neck, where she could still feel his invisible grasp and fingers.

Kid ran over to the window, gun cocked in one hand. He poked his head out and glanced at either side, seeing nothing. "He's gone." He turned back to her and knelt down next to her. "What the hell did he do to you?"

She had finally filled her lungs with air and tried to regulate her breaths. "He...he snuck in through my window and attacked me. He tried to strangle me," she said, breathless.

Kid nodded gravely. Tsubaki ran into the room with a concerned look on her face. "I heard a gunshot. Is everyone alright?" she asked worriedly.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently.

The blonde was trembling, visibly shaken, a horrified look in her eyes. "Y...yeah..." she managed weakly. "Just...startled..."

The black-haired boy rose from the floor. "Get Soul over here. Right now."

* * *

The snowy-haired mobster was on his way home from the club as he dawdled home with his hands in his pockets. He turned the street corner slowly and crossed into the light of a streetlight overhead, with his house in sight right down the block. Suddenly, he caught a figure sprinting out the side of his yard and into the bushes. He whipped his gun from his pocket immediately and cocked it out of instinct, taking aim at the running shadow in the distance. Soul growled as he darted around the corner and out of range of his bullet. Then, a thought dawned on him. He shoved the gun right back into his pocket and went into a full sprint towards his house. _The man had escaped through Maka's window._

He swung open the gate to the yard and smashed through the front door. His two men were waiting with their guns slung over their shoulders with a concerned look on their faces. Out of breath, he demanded, "The fuck happened in here?"

"Take a look for yourself," he answered as he motioned to Maka's room.

Soul trudged towards her hallway, fearing what he'd see. Out of all the deaths he had faced and all the heartless times he'd pointed a gun at a man's face with no emotion, he prayed that it wasn't true. "Maka!" he shouted, right before he barged through the door. Kid was standing next to the bed and Tsubaki was examining her neck.

Soul sighed with relief. She was trembling, staring listlessly at the ground, but she was alright and she wasn't dead. "Sir, someone broke into her room and attacked her," Kid reported. He kept his rage to a minimum on his face.

He strode over to her bed. Maka was startled at his presence, as if she didn't notice him coming in. He bent down to look at her, but her eyes were blank. She was in shock. He lightly tapped her shoulder and she jumped. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She absorbed the genuine expression on his face for a moment, and snapped out of her haze. "Yeah," she nodded. "I'm just...shaken up, that's all."

"What'd he do to you?" He cringed as his gaze focused on her neck, which was covered with black and blue spots. Right under her cheek was a bruised imprint of a large finger that had wrapped around her neck.

"He tried to strangle me," she managed.

Soul bent down next to Tsubaki and reached for her chin, tilting it up slightly. "I see...did you see his face?"

"Um...I couldn't see a lot...he had a stubbly beard and he had brown eyes...he had a slim cheek...brown hair..." she answered distantly.

Soul rose. He turned to Kid. "I'll be back in a few moments. Don't wait up for me," he said flatly.

"Where are you going?" Kid asked.

Soul straightened his collar and brushed down his suit, grabbing his pin-stripped hat from the edge of the desk and placing it on his head carefully. "I'm gonna go out and find the bastard who did this. And then, when I do, I'm gonna take this gun, cock it, and drive a bullet through his sorry head."

Without another word from anyone from the room, Soul strode out with his hands tucked away in his pocket and his shoulders hunched. Kid smirked. "That's my boss for ya."

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying to update as much as possible, but I'll be leaving on a cruise on the 17th for vacation. Don't worry, I'll get as much chapters as possible before the summer's up. Review please!**

**~Amber**


	3. Chapter 3

**Time for more mob lingo:**

**A contract: an arrangement to kill someone. **

**Whack: to kill someone**

**Wise guy: someone who associates with the mafia but isn't necessarily in one**

* * *

Soul Eater roamed around Death City in the dead of night with his hat atop his head and pinstripe suit. His head was tilted downwards, shoulders hunched over near his face with his hands in his pants pocket. He didn't know why he felt so serious about doing this. Why he suppressed a spout of anger from within him as soon as he discovered that Maka had been hurt and nearly killed on his watch. He felt frustrated, like it was his duty to keep her safe. Of course, even if it wasn't his duty and he should've just killed her when he got the chance, he felt some sort of kindness owed to her even though he wasn't the charitable type of person who did things out of the goodness of his heart. After all, her father had helped them heavily when he was just starting his career as a mob boss.

He also couldn't help but dwell on Star's words. Capone knew something he didn't know about her father, and he was unwilling to spill. The man wanted Maka to be gone, but for what reason? What did she see in that house that was so important to Capone that he'd have to get rid of her? He couldn't go back to visit it now since it's now owned by the Capone mafia. He also knew that Capone probably had a key role in her father's disappearance. He just didn't know why.

Death City's streets were a deadly kind of quiet as he walked down the empty sidewalk. Even though there seemed to be no life outside, he can see building window lights illuminating the night. Disembodied shouts and muffled uproarious laughter emanated from the apartments above. Soul glanced to the other sidewalk cross the street. He knew that the assaulter had come this way, but he didn't know where. As the man fled from his yard and into the streets, he could've sworn he recognized him for a split second. It made his blood boil knowing that his own ally could go against him.

After wandering down the block for some time and finding no trace of the intruder, he decided that the man probably wasn't running anymore. Soul guessed he got cocky and decided to spoil himself after a failed assassination. He sets his sights straight ahead, where his favorite pub was. The most popular place to drink for grungy old men in all of Death City. Even though he was barely 18 years old, he still enjoyed indulging in alcohol. His position in the city allowed him to get practically anything he demanded. Only this time he wasn't here to get wasted.

Soul pushed the door open, ringing the bell on the top. The odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke and grime hit his nostrils. The pub's bar was occupied by older men ranging from burly to skinny. None of his men were there, though. The tables had some men hunched over with their drinks, sulking to themselves while loud country music droned on in the dimly-lit background. Soul pushed the rim of his hat up, revealing his sullen maroon gaze that roved around the room. The bartender noticed him. He motioned with one hand to take a seat while his other hand was occupied with the handle of an empty glass mug. The white-haired boss sat down and tried not to look too conspicuous, considering that he was the best dressed in the whole room and notorious for his vast crime ring throughout the city. "What'll it be, Mr. Evans?" the mustached man behind the bar asked secretively. "Whisky on the rocks tonight?" Before Soul could counter he reached for a small cup with ice and poured him his personal favorite drink.

He sighed. He couldn't resist one drink. "Thanks." He knocked it back with a quick gulp and settled down.

"Another?" he asked.

"Nope. Not tonight." Soul leaned in closer to the man. "I'm looking for a certain someone."

"Who're we talkin' about?"

"A man. You know, a guy who came in not too long ago. Tall, skinny, brown hair. Think you'd know a guy like that?"

The barman chuckled lightly. "I think I know who you're talkin' about. Ol' Giriko just came in here ten minutes before you."

"Where is he?"

"Down there. All the way at the end of the bar."

Soul slid off his seat and stuffed a hand in his pocket. He ventured past droopy-eyed glances and large men and spied the man sitting all the way on the last stool. The unshaven man was hunched over and glaring down into his bottle of beer. His chestnut hair was spiked up on the top in a near-mohawk, his jeans and black boots were soiled with dirt. Soul spotted grass stains on the fabric of his navy blue jeans. They looked fresh. He fit the description that Maka had described.

Soul stopped only five feet away from him until he glanced up. He caught Soul's gaze and fear entered his eyes. He immediately slipped off his chair. "Shit!" Giriko cussed and sprinted out the back door after knocking the barstool over.

A guttural growl escaped Soul's throat as he lunged after him, bursting through the door and into an abandoned back alley. Giriko scrambled down the straightaway of the dark cement path while started after him. "Get back here, bastard!" Soul yelled. He pulled a pistol from within his pocket and cocked it quickly, taking aim at the running man.

Girko swiftly rounded the corner, narrowly escaping the glint of Soul's bullet that hit the brick wall down the path. Soul turned after him, but the alleyway snaked into more corners. Even though he couldn't see Giriko directly he could hear every pant he uttered and each heavy-booted footstep. Soul heard trashcans being knocked over and as soon as he turned around the corridor, Giriko had downed all of the cans and sprawled them out across the narrow path, spewing bits of garbage on the concrete. "Try and get through that, ya little prick!" he could hear him sneer.

Soul forced himself to go faster and he hurled over the large canisters, barely breaking stride and continuing on while Giriko slowed to observe him. His smirk upside down immediately. Soul could see panic in his eyes as he barreled past Giriko's poorly place obstacle and charged towards him.

He took a right, then another short corridor squished in between two buildings and made a left. He was closing in on him. He could see his silhouette ducking into another alleyway every time Soul would round another. He let a bullet fly and it skimmed the edge of the man's darting shadow and then lodged into the wall. With increasing frustration, Soul sped his pace up. Finally, the short-lived chase came to an end as Giriko made a single wrong turn into a dead end brick wall.

Soul's shadow loomed towards him as he faced the wall. "Now, where were we?" Soul breathed, out of breath. Giriko spun around, panicked. He reached in his pocket quickly, but Soul shot first before the man could get to his pistol. Giriko roared with pain as a bullet lodged in his foot. He fell to one knee, biting his lips to stop any escaping grunts. "If you reach in your pocket again you're a dead man."

Giriko glanced up at him with a strained chuckle. "Now, now Eater, we don't hafta do this!" he said through grit teeth.

The white-haired mob boss advanced towards him with a low, dangerous glint in his eyes. "Don't fuck with me. You were in my house, not too long ago."

He managed another weak chuckle as a scarlet liquid seeped from the top of his boot. "W-whaddya talkin' about? I wasn't near ya house, I swear!" he spat.

Soul aimed barrel higher and shot another bullet, inches away from the top of his head. Giriko cringed and shielded his face. "I'm _serious_, Giriko," he uttered. "You're the best hit man in this whole goddamn city. You were hired to kill 'er. I'd be a waste if I were to kill you now." He lowered the gun so that it was level with the hit man's forehead. "However, I'm feeling a bit merciful today. If you tell me what I want, then I might let you live, All I want to know is one simple thing: who hired you?"

A pathetically nervous chuckle escaped his throat. "I swear on my life, Eater! I wasn't the one who took the contract. No one hired me!"

"Wrong answer," he informed him coldly, pulling the trigger.

Giriko fell back, clutching his knee where the bullet had skimmed the top of his thigh. Blood splattered the alley floor where he lay in a one-legged fetal position, hugging his injured knee by his kneecap while letting out the occasional strained moans. Soul stepped towards him with his smoking gun without a hint of emotion on his face. Giriko, who was still wincing, opened his eyes just in time to see the white-haired mobster's menacing glower and shadow glowering down on him. "P-Please! I swear on my life!" he begged. "No one hired me! I didn't try to whack her! I swear it for real!""

"Shut up already!" He dug his heel into his curled up stomach, causing another yelp out of him. "I know you were there. Maka told me that you were in her room and you tried to kill her. Don't make me waste me bullets on scum like you," he warned.

Giriko growled at him. "You won't kill me, you're bluffin'!" he managed angrily.

"Test me and we'll find out!" Soul snarled, delivering another harsh kick to his ribcage. Giriko hacked out air and then chocked it back in, trembling on the ground. "Just tell me already for Christ's sake! Capone did, didn't he?"

After Giriko was done with his coughing fit, he shot Soul a hateful gaze and scowled at him, still clutching his leg to his chest. "Whaddif I tell ya?"

"I let you live," he stated plainly. "Or, I can put you out of your misery right now."

"Alright, alright..." he bit his lip. "It wasn't Capone!"

The mob boss perked an eyebrow up. "What do you mean? Capone _didn't_ hire you?"

Giriko smirked. "What? Don't'cha know that Capone ain't your only enemy. You've gotten too cocky, ya little prick!" he spat.

Soul glared at him. "Tell me who he is!" he demanded.

Giriko paused and gazed up at him to study his face. "Heheh! You wouldn't know 'em if ya tried! But that little girlie of yours would know!"

"I know more than ya think, bastard. Now quit stalling or else I'll plug a bullet in that smart ass head of yours," Soul growled, eyes narrowing. "And what do ya mean she knows him?"

"That ain't for me to tell ya. Only she'd know. So the guy who hired me?" He broke for a chuckle. "The guy ain't on your radar. He ain't on anyone's radar. The man's a total mystery."

Soul raised a suspicious eyebrow and lowered his gun slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"When he hired me he kept sayin' her name and kept callin' her his 'old friend' or somethin'. I dunno, I don't know him personally, but he paid me a whole lotta cash. Didn't ask him where he got it." Giriko propped himself up on one elbow leaned against the pavement.

"His name?" Soul reiterated, slightly irritated.

"Tch. He didn't even give me his full name. He only told me his first name and it's - " he froze in mid-sentence. His eyes widened as his gaze focused on something directly behind Soul.

He was confused. "What?"

Giriko started shaking his head furiously. "No, no! Don't kill me, please!" he begged, his words not aimed at Soul but at someone seemingly behind the snowy-haired mobster.

Soul spun around. Behind him, standing right at the entrance to the alleyway was a darkened figure. His face was shielded from view thanks to a shadow casted by his hat. He wore a classy black tuxedo and black pants and obsidian shoes that clicked against pavement. Soul was shocked that he hadn't noticed the man approaching before. He drew a gun from his pocket and Soul countered by holding up is. "Outta the way, Evans," the figure's voice said. He could feel a sense of cockiness in his tone.

A single gunshot fired across the alley, and it wasn't from Soul's pistol. With his smoking pistol in hand, the man fled into another pathway to the left right after firing. Soul glanced down at his body to see if he had been shot but he was not been harmed. The bullet wasn't intended for him. He gave a little chase towards the end of the alleyway, but the man was out of sight, along with the sound of tires screeching off in the distance. He turned around. As he expected, Giriko lay dead and facedown against the pavement with a single gunshot wound to the forehead. Soul grit his teeth. He was _just_ about to uncover the name of their perpetrator, and now he couldn't do that.

He trotted over to the hit man's body and leaned down, placing two fingers on the side of his neck to feel if a pulse was there. Nothing, of course. The man was stiff. With frustration, Soul stood up and composed himself and brushed off some dirt that had collected during his chase with the now-dead Giriko. All this trouble, and still no information or leads. He tucked the gun back in his pocket with a disappointed sigh.

He started back down the alleyway and tucked his head on top his head more securely, and ventured out onto a sidewalk. He didn't care about the body. In Death City, where mafias ran rampant and invisible wars (to the common folk, of course) were waged between them, death was a common visitor. The police'll be baffled in the morning anyways. He began a slow trudge home, feeling defeated. Maka's 'old friend' was now her worst enemy, and he had no idea who it was.

* * *

"Miss Albarn, please hold still," the maid woman chided softly as the pigtailed blonde squirmed as she administered a supposed bruise-healing concoction under her neck.

She squirmed in her chair slightly, wincing at the pain, leaning on elbow on the kitchen table. The room they were in was small: a nice sized oven against the wall, a refrigerator oppositely facing it with a small window beckoning them from the back and giving them a nice view of the dark backyard, brown cupboards that lined the wall and were filled with china plates, and a black-and-white tiled floor.

"Ow!" she yelped as Tsubaki gently rubbed the swab against her fresh wound.

The girl with black hair sighed as she attempted again to rub the liquid on the base of her neck, but she was glad that Maka had recovered from her startled state of mind, right after the incident had occurred. As a worker for the Evans mafia for a few years after migrating from her little village in Japan, she had seen her share in violence and attempted assassinations of the crew members. Of course, none were on her since she was merely a lowly maid.

"Sorry, Tsubaki," she said, slightly embarrassed. "It stings a little." Maka leaned down for her more on the wooden chair, while Tsubaki stooped with one leg on the floor to get a better glance at the bruising.

"Maybe this'll help?" Kid asked, offering her a bottle of wine from a glassy green bottle. He stood behind her near the kitchen doorway, leaned up against the frame and dressed in his suit.

Maka scowled at the alcohol. "I'm 17, I don't drink."

Kid shrugged and downed a swig of red liquid. "So am I." He sighed. "Suit yourself. But it'll make you feel less pain."

The young blond sighed. "Ow! What's in that thing anyways?"

Tsubaki shrugged. "I have no idea. Mr. Evans says that its his own special remedy passed down from his family. It's supposed to heal you really fast."

Maka frowned. "I dunno about that..."

The black-haired boy chuckled. "You seem pretty nonchalant after you've just taken a bullet to the side and survived an assassination attempt in one day," Kid said, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"What? How do you want me to act?" she asked, shooting him an odd gaze.

"Wouldn't you be more shocked that people are trying to kill you?" Kid inquired.

Her frown deepened. "I knew it was gonna happen sometime. I'm always out on the street, and I know that there's danger. I've had some close encounters with enough mobsters to know what they can do."

"That's impressive," Kid said. The door swung open abruptly, causing her to jump. Soul trudged through the doorframe with slumped shoulders, his black and red coat taken off and slung over his hunching shoulders, revealing a white dress shirt underneath. His maroon scowl was droopier than usual. "Did you get him, boss?" Kid asked.

Maka eyed him carefully. He didn't meet her eyes. "I found him. It was Giriko, that bastard," he drawled and sloppily pulled out a chair from the table and plopped down on it dejectedly with his elbows propped up on the table.

"Who's that?" she asked, slightly timidly.

"A local hit man for hire," he answered with the tops of his knuckles digging into the bottom of his chin. "Giriko. Also one of the best ones out there. I've hired him quite a few times in the past."

"Did you find out who hired him?" asked Kid.

"I was about to, until Maka's 'old friend' shot him in the head," he said bitterly. "And I know that his services ain't cheap."

Maka cocked her head. "'Old friend?'"

"Before he croaked, Giriko said that you already know who's trying to kill you," he answered. "Apparently, _only_ you would know him. Said he's 'mysterious,' and, according to him, he's off anyone's radar. Only you know his identity. Plus he's probably a rich fella if he can afford Giriko's skills."

Maka seemed just as confused as Soul was. "What do you mean? I wouldn't know who'd wanna kill me. If anything, they'd be after Papa."

"Did you even see the guy's face?" Tsubaki chimed in suddenly.

Soul shook his head. "The guy came up from behind me and shot him while I was caught off guard, and then ran. Couldn't even recognize his voice." The mobster slumped down on his chair and rested his chin on the tabletop.

"If he's not really recognizable, then maybe he's a wise guy," Kid suggested. "Someone who's not exactly in the mafia but works closely besides them in business."

"If he was then what kinda beef would he have with Maka?" Soul mumbled.

"Perhaps he'd have some beef with Spirit and is taking it out on his daughter? That includes the fact that Capone's after her as well," Kid added in, to Maka's dismay.

"Papa wouldn't do anything to upset the mobsters. He knows what kind of consequences they'd have," Maka said defensively.

"But what if he did without knowing?" the black-haired boy pressed on. "You never know if you have until you get whacked. It sounds like you have a lot of enemies to deal with as of now, Maka."

Maka frowned and groaned. "Soul, what are the odds of my survival if what Kid is saying is really true?"

Soul chuckled. "Even with me on your side? Not much," he said flatly. "But at least I know one guy who's after you. The other, not so much. And if you can't figure it out who it is, then you might as well be dead."

She scowled at him. "I thought it was your job not to let anything like that happen!"

"I'm a mob boss, sweetheart, not a miracle worker," he deadpanned. "But there is one way we can figure it out."

Kid'a head perked up at the certain tone in his voice. "I think I know what you mean."

Soul nodded. "We needa go undercover."

Maka shot him an incredulous look. "You mean infiltrate the Capone mafia? How are you gonna pull that off without dying?"

"Nope. Not us," he answered. "I'm gonna give a friend of mine a call."

* * *

The brunette with long hair sat in her office with the door closed, two chairs positioned in front of her broad polished desk. On her desk were scattered pages of case files, sprawled out in random order. A lit lamp was positioned on one of the corners, illuminating the whole room. Instead of studying the case files like the Director had told her to do, she was leaned back on a tiled chair, booted feet propped up on the edge of her desk with a cigarette hanging crookedly from the side of her mouth. She wore slightly ripped navy blue jeans and heeled black boots cropped up almost to her kneecaps, and a grey tank top underneath a checkered flannel long-sleeved jacket. And, to finish it off, a blue cowboy hat fitting atop her head with its rim tilted over her eyes.

The black-polished pay phone from across her room woke her with a shrill and startling ring. She jolted upright, almost knocking her chair backwards along with herself. Her light blue eyes aimed at the vibrating wall phone with annoyance as she set her unlit cigarette on the ashtray and strode over to the phone. "Callin' at four in the morning?" she muttered to herself grumpily. She unhitched the phone and answered it. "Thompson's office, whaddya want?" she spat groggily.

"Liz, that you?" a baritone rumbled from the other line.

She recognize the voice with immediate satisfaction. "Eater, long time no see," she smirked. "How is it there?"

"It's fine. But I didn't call to small talk with you," he answered. "How's the cop work over there?"

"Ah, y'know, not so busy. Stuck with all these murder cases but no names to pin 'em on. What's the matter? Why the hell are you callin' so early in the morning?" she asked.

She could hear him grunt with frustration. "I'll brief you on everything when you get here. The truth is, we've got a little _problem_.

"Then I'm your girl. Who is it? How should I take care of it for you?"

"It's about Capone."

"What about?"

"We've got someone under our wings for a while, someone who's on Capone's hit list. We've also got a missing person report from 'er. We need you and your detective work. Get over here as soon as you're outta the office and head down to Kid's house," Soul said.

"Gotcha. I'll be right there as soon as my boss is gone. Probably in the afternoon. Do ya need Patty too?"

"The more the merrier."

"Alrighty then."

She hung up with a slight smirk on her face.

On the other side, Maka and Kid gathered around the house phone located in the living room and situated next to a large and plush red couch. "Who's that?" Out of her own curiosity, Maka spoke up.

"Our old friend, Liz Thompson. A made man - or, woman - in the Evans mafia. She's also a detective but she's a loyal member who's also working as an undercover cop, almost like a double agent. She's proved herself many times to us and she spills valuable information from the cops. She's the reason why we always find ways to get past them," Soul answered confidently. "And..." he turned to Kid, who was wearing a slightly irritated expression on his face. "She's an old flame of Kid's."

"She was _not_ my old love. She was just an acquaintance, nothing more," he answered curtly.

"'Acquaintance' my ass," Soul chuckled. "I call BlackStar my 'acquaintance' but you don't see me fucking him every night."

Maka perked an eyebrow at the black-haired boy.

"I did not!" the boy insisted angrily, donning on a small blush on each cheek. "I found her and her sister on the streets one night, looking tough! I thought they'd make a great addition to the mob, so I invited them inside and that's how they joined!"

"Ah, so it was a threesome instead," Soul continued to tease. Maka snorted out a laugh and Kid's blush reddened.

"Christ, Evans, I _swear_ - "

The door swung open abruptly, and Tsubaki appeared from the kitchen with a tray of mugs with steam hovering up from each one. "I have brought tea, Mr. Evans," she smiled gently. Kid aided Maka towards the couch because she was partially unable to walk because of her bullet wound, and Soul settled across the small coffee table wedged in between the couch and him.

Kid sighed and leaned back into the couch with relief, the red dispersing from his face as Maka gratefully accepted her cup. "Aren't you worried that Liz might spill mafia information to the cops?" she asked as she settled into the indented cushion of the faded maroon couch. Soul plopped himself on the floor, cross-legged on the small carpet below the small coffee table.

After taking a light sip, Soul shook his head. "The only reason why she and her sis joined the force is because we convinced her to. That way we'd have two pairs of eyes to see what the cops are doin' behind our backs. Cops wire the places that we go to all the time."

"Like my pub. Even though I own it I'm aware that the cops are present all the time. None of them are in uniform, of course," Kid said. "They wanna listen in on our conversations so they'd know what we're doing at all times, and if we wanted to whack someone they'd know who and when it'll be."

"Sometimes the cops play dirty," Soul dryly pointed out. "They're always gonna find some ways to infiltrate us, but we know better than that."

"What about Papa? Do you think the cops would've gotten him?" Maka asked with a frown.

He shook his head. "Cops also play nice. They'd've probably told you that your father's in custody," Kid explained into his mug after taking a long sip. "And since we already know that Capone and some other guy knows who you are, you can easily guess that the people who took your father have something to do with the mafia."

"So what about Liz? What do they do?" she asked, allowing her curiosity to best her.

"They were both street rats, as Kid pointed out earlier," Kid said. "Wanted for petty thief and robbery by the cops. We took 'em in, did a little convincing to the police force, and here they are. They work for us as one of our soldiers. They're masters at handling guns..."

Soul set his mug down slowly and observed the evanescent steam rise from the top of the cup with dreary garnet eyes. He stood up slowly and Tusbaki offered to courteously take his cup away. Maka and Kid started conversing to each other as Kid went on to explain about how Liz and Patty joined. While they were busy talking to each other, Soul lost attention to their words and instead took the time to study the baseline of her neck as her head was turned towards Kid. The visible handprints of black and blue were still present and defined on her neck since it had only been 5 hours since he left the house. She had looked so shaken when he first got back, but now the traces of fear in her eyes were no longer there. He'd seen people who experienced near-death situations before, and it shook them to their core, changing the look in their eyes for the rest of their lives. But, the rules didn't seem to apply to her. She made an oddly fast recovery for someone who had never been a part of a mob before and never experienced the violence that ensued. She let out a small and audibly weary laugh at one of Kid's witty statements.

He suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. He stood up slowly after realizing that he hadn't slept for 18 hours straight. He had stayed up after finding Maka, while the doctor was patching her up, and as he went down to La Cabana to meet up with BlackStar, and even when he chased Giriko through the alleyway. "Tsubaki and Kid, make sure that the guards stay armed and posted outside the house," he ordered.

"What's wrong, sir?" he asked.

He slung his limp black jacket over his shoulder and headed towards the doorframe. "I'm exhausted," he drawled as he sulked off. Before he exited the living room completely, he glanced back at Maka. "Aren't you tired too?" he asked her.

Maka paused for a moment to register his question. "I actually am," she said.

He offered her a slight grin. "C'mere. Let's get you to bed."

Kid supported under her arms as she rose from the couch and she slowly made her way towards Soul, switching off at the doorway. Soul gently placed a hand on her waist while she hung her arm around the back of his neck. He helped guide her towards the bedroom as her feet shuffled against the wooden floorboard. Admittedly, Maka felt exposed being so close to the crime-boss. She thought a hardened criminal like him would hardly care about someone with such insignificance as she did. Instead of treating her like she didn't matter it seemed that he had been treating her like she was a priority. While they made their way down the first floor hallway and turned the corridor, she tilted her head so that she could catch a glimpse of his eyes. Two darkened rubies were staring distantly down the darkened hallway. She couldn't tell if his eyes were fatigued or regretful.

After they made it into the doorframe, Soul mumbled, "Sorry..."

"Huh?" she asked, acknowledging him.

"I shoulda been here when you were attacked. He would've never got to you if I were sitting here," he muttered.

"You would've stayed here all night with me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well, I had nothing else to do anyways," he chuckled softly. "Since Kid's always doing the paperwork and stuff."

"What's Kid to you?" she asked.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Like, in the mafia." Soul sat her down at the edge of the bed.

"Kid's a special guy. He's higher than everyone else in this mafia, next to me. Ever heard of a _consigliere_?"

Her head perked up. "An advisor to the boss," she answered, proud of her understanding.

"Yup. And he's one of my closest and most trusted friends," he said with a faint smile. Soul settled in the chair had sat in before, a decent distance from her bed and facing the window. "Y'know, I've never seen a girl like you take a bullet and survive being almost strangled to death and _still_ be able to smile in only a few hours."

Maka chuckled. "Kid told me the same thing. But truthfully, I've had my share of close calls with the mafia before."

Soul raised a brow. "And they haven't tried to kill you since?" he asked skeptically.

"I guess I've been lucky?" she answered. "Or they found that I wasn't much of a threat anyways."

Soul chuckled. "You're strong. You'd make a good crew member."

She shook her head. "There's no way I'd let myself stoop into crime."

"That's too bad. But I don't think it's too late to convince you otherwise," he drawled.

"Don't get your hopes up for nothing," she deadpanned flatly. "You'll keep your promise to me anyways, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's a work in progress" he dismissed. "Where's that pistol I got you anyways?"

Maka's eyes lit up and she immediately reached under her pillow and rummaged for her gun. "It's here, right under the pillow where I left it."

"I'm gonna need to borrow it for the night," he said, taking it from her and examining the barrel.

"Why? Are you going out again?"

"Pfft. Weren't you listening?" He took his jacket and threw it at the desk, and tipped his hat on his head. "I ain't going anywhere." He leaned back against the backrest of his chair slowly with his arms crossed over his chest.

Her eyes widened. "Wait, so you're gonna sit here and watch me sleep all night?"

"Well, unless you want another guy to come in here and spend the night with you and try to kill you again, then yes."

She held down a visible blush. "But...!" She found that she had no argument or anything to counter him, considering that she had almost been killed without his presence. She could try and convince him to let Kid watch her, or even _Tsubaki_, but she couldn't help but feel that her chances of survival were with the white-haired mobster.

"What? Ain't like there's much to look at anyways," he snorted motioning to her chest.

Maka shot him a look, and then submitted to his will. "Fine. Just...don't stare at me, okay? And don't you dare try to share the bed," she warned.

He smirked. "Why in the hell would I ever do that? Just go to sleep already."

With that, she turned over on her side in a huff and flung the covers over her shoulders, and settled her head on her pillow. She curled up her knees to her chest, feeling slightly more protected from his gaze from under the white sheets and snuggled in further. She could hear chuckle a bit, and then go silent as he reached for the lamp and shut it off. Once there was darkness all around the room with the exception of the dull moonlight filtering hesitantly through the gossamer curtains from the window, she finally closed her eyes. Afterward, she didn't hear Soul at all, not even his breathing. She could feel his presence in the room, and even perhaps his steady and watchful gaze on her body despite her warning him not to stare.

She dared not move, hoping to trick Soul that she was sleeping. Even though she distrusted him and his motive behind helping her, she couldn't help but think that he showed her no hostility. And, as much as she wanted to believe that he was nothing but a crime mutt on the streets, she couldn't help but feel a tad bit safer with him watching over her. After all, he was Death City's notorious Soul Eater Evans, head mobster of the infamous Evans mafia. If there were anything he'd know best, it was how to survive in this dark city. With that thought in mind, she allowed herself to slip into the peacefulness of a good night's rest.

* * *

She awoke to extremely loud and obnoxious snoring, right in her ear. Maka shot up in bed and threw the covers off her, only to have her eyes assaulted by sunlight infiltrating through the window and bouncing brightly off the polished wooden floor. She turned away and faced the opposite side of the room, where the sunlight barely reached. Soul's face was on the edge of the bed with his head buried in the sheets with his muffled snoring while he was still sitting in the chair. She could see a trail of drool seeping from the side of his mouth and gave a disgusted look. His chair was closer to the bed then she remembered it was before. The pistol was still resting idly on his lap.

Maka let out a stifled giggle at his awkward position. She never expected him to actually stay the whole duration of the night. She glanced at the analogue clock hung on the wall. It was already 12 in the afternoon. Had they been that exhausted? She could see that Tsubaki had left a small plate with dainty white bread sandwiches with some kind of jelly in them and a tray with two cups of tea on the nightstand. She reached over and felt the cup. The porcelain was lukewarm, telling her that the maid had dropped it off possibly an hour or two ago. Maka scooted over closer to the nightstand where Soul was snoring away and gently lifted up one of the tea cups, taking a sip and watched the sleeping mobster. She tapped his shoulder to wake him.

Soul didn't stir, only continuing to snore. "Hey Soul," she whispered. "Wake up."

He muttered something in his slumber and then settled down again. She sighed and set her cup down. "C'mon, Soul," she said. She pat his head. Despite his hair being visibly spiky, it was surprisingly soft under her fingers. "Don't you need to get up now?"

Soul muttered something frustrated into the bedsheets. She shook his shoulders vigorously. "Huh?!" He jolted into an upright position which startled her.

"It's time to get up. Remember? Liz said she'd be around at this time."

Soul focused in his droopy red eyes at her, wiping away the drool from his mouth. "What time is it?" he asked slowly.

"It's already 12 in the afternoon."

Soul cracked his neck from side to side and let out a long yawn while he stretched his arms out. "Is it now?" he muttered to himself. "Did anything happen while I was out?"

"Well, not really. Nothing happened thankfully," she said with a soft smile.

He nodded quickly. "Good. How do you feel?"

"I feel fine. Still a little achy but I'm fine."

"Alright then." Soul stood up and smoothed down his suit. "I need to take care of some business first. You should rest."

"Alright," she said.

Soul hurried from the room and into his own. He took a quick shower and changed into his casual clothes - a t-shirt and jeans - in a matter of 20 minutes, and then ran into the living room. Tsubaki was sitting in her maid's outfit at the table, reading the newspaper. "Did Liz come yet?" he asked, feeling a bit rushed.

"She came about an hour ago. I told her you were sleeping, so she told me that she'd be waiting near Kid's bar," Tsubaki answered, eyes still concentrated on the ink words in front of her.

"Shit, she's gonna kill me for being so late," he muttered.

"I'm sure Liz would understand," she said helpfully.

"Alright. Thanks. If Maka needs anything, take care of her, okay?" he said as he ventured towards the doorway.

"Understood, Mr. Evans."

* * *

The brunette and her younger, blonder sister waited impatiently in front of a small building with salon doors. Liz sighed with frustration as her younger sister distantly hummed a cheery tune and smiled to herself. Liz's eyebrow began to twitch after listening to her sister for an hour. "Patty, you've been singing the same goddamn song for an hour now! Will you stop?" she growled.

Patty perked up her head at her sister. "But sis, I'm bored!" she whined childishly.

"So am I. Eater said he'll be here a while ago. He'd better be dead," she muttered.

"Aw, don't say that. He probably got hung up on something or something. Soul's usually never late anyways."

Liz sighed once more. "I hope nothin' bad happened to him." Liz swung her head around and saw the mob boss slumping over with his kneecaps, panting heavily.

"Don't worry about ol' Soul Eater," Soul smirked, out of breath. He had just ran around the corner just in time to hear her.

Liz quirked an eyebrow at him. "Where the hell were you? We've been waitin' out here for a while now! It ain't like you to be late," she said.

"Sorry. I over slept," he admitted.

"With who?" she leaned over suspiciously.

"I didn't sleep with nobody!" he shot back defensively. Liz chuckled.

"Don't get too soft on us, Eater," she warned. "What did you wanna talk about anyways?"

Soul stood closer to the sisters. "I think you know before that we've got a minor problem."

"Is it Capone again?"

"Well, it's got somethin' do to with him. Do you remember the name 'Albarn?" Y'know, one of our first wise guys."

"Oh. That red-haired guy. Yeah, what about him?" she asked.

"Well, we have his daughter in our protection after Capone tried to kill her. Says he's gone missing and word from Star says that Capone has somethin' to do with it. Also, some guy's after her too. Dunno know who he is, but he was apparently rich enough to hire Giriko."

"His daughter?" she asked. "Ah, so that's who you were sleeping with."

Soul's eyes narrowed at her. "Don't push me," he said in a low, warning voice.

Liz raised her hands in submission. "Sorry, sorry. What were you gonna go about anyways?"

"As I was saying," he said, clearing his throat. "We wanna find out about her father."

"You think Albarn's dead or something?"

"I dunno. BlackStar says Capone knows where he is but he didn't say if he was alive or not," Soul said grimly.

"Hmph. Well, I can tell you that the police haven't noticed him going missing so we're in the dark to. But, let's say he'd dead or somethin'. What'll you do then?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "But if there's one thing I know it's that Capone's got somethin' big planned. He's been kinda secretive lately. We needa find the father and get to Capone too. That's why I've called you here in the first place."

"Ooh! A mission?" Patty chimed in excitedly.

"Yup," Soul answered with a smirk.

"Lemme guess. You want us to take care of Capone?" Liz asked.

"Nope. We can't kill him yet until he tells us were Albarn is. We can't ask him either. So, I'm gonna need you two to go undercover for a few days."

"In the Capone mafia? As much fun as it sounds, how the hell are we gonna do that without gettin' killed?" the older sister said.

"You're not actually gonna get into the mafia itself. You're gonna be something else instead. Listen, we needa find out about what Capone's planning and where her father is. So I've got a plan."

"Sounds fun!" Patty chirped.

Liz smirked. "Care to enlighten us?" Patty leaned in with interest.

"Alright, so here's how it's gonna go..."

* * *

**A/N: Well, I haven't updated this story in a whole and that's because I'm really really busy with school and stuff. Junior year's pretty hard already. Thanks for being so patient with me! **

**~Amber**


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